Marksman
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: She'd swore to never let it happen again. To never fall in love. But a chance meeting with a foxy blond changed all of that. Will she be able to love again, when she finds her lover is not even of this world, but from the future? NarutoxMagoichi. Fluff!


**A/N: Just saw the Sengoku Basara movie! It was absolutely wicked! I really hope they plan to make another, though. Not that I can complain, seeing as I'm still stuck in a hospital bed lol. Anyway, this was just a little inkling that sprung up from watching the awesomness that is Sengoku Basara! Be nice and be sure to review! Sorry if it is short! I'm on a mission! A mission to pair each and every Sengoku girl up with Uzumaki Naruto! Next is the lovely but deadly Kasuga-chan!**

_My heart will never wave. My spirit will never break._

_~Magoichi Saica._

**Marksman**

Anger was not a foreign concept to Magoichi Saica.

She'd known its firery embrace many a time in her youth. She was familair with it, and the lack of reason it embued. Oftentimes she embraced it; choosing to lose herself with the red hot haze, throwing herself against the enemy with uncouth and reckless abandon. But the days of her youth were fading and behind her. She was a woman now, and a woman of great influence. As the leader of the Saica Faction, her men looked to her for leadership. For sanity. Not anger. Not the cold fury that burned her world white, at this very moment.

Anger could empower. It could deprive. It could also destroy. Anger was a weapon. A double-edged weapon easily capable of cutting its master as well at its victim. Anger was strength. It was also weakness. It was all these things and more, and tonight, for the first time in nearly ten years, it claimed Magoichi Saica as its victim.

Because at at this moment, Magoichi Saica was very, _very_ angry.

It was not jealousy that stoked the flames of her heart; she knew him to be a better marksman than she. Nor was it the fickle emotion of pride that clutched at her breast tonight. She prided herself on many things, and loyalty was one of them. His loyalty was not in question. His sanity, however, was. Only moments before she'd caught him practicing _again. _Practicing, despite the wounds he'd received during the war against Hideyoshi.

She still had flashbacks about it. His refusal to serve. The bitter battle against that great ape of a man; watching_-screaming-_as her beloved was beaten within an inch of his life, as his back was broken for the crime of insubourdination. She'd nearly lost him that day; nearly lost the man, who meant more to her than the Saica Faction. More than life itself; more than anything else.

"What did I tell you about dual-wielding?" Cross and irate, she stormed toward him. "What did I tell you...about wielding any sort of weapon with that injury?"

"To...not to?"

He whisked a hand through his hair, the blond mess perfecting itself at the touch of his fingertips. He smiled, a gorgeous white streak in the darkness of torchlight. That smile, that indefatigable streak of optimisim, had been her ruin on many an occasion. But not tonight. Tonight she was in the right, and he, the wrong. No amount of charm could or would sway her from her goal. And what goal was that?

Beating some sense into her dim-witted fiance, that's what!

"That's right." Smiling sweetly, she jammed a hand into her holster. "And what did I tell you I would do if I caught you wielding a gun ever again?"

He raised his hands, vainly trying to ward off her fury.

"Now now, Saica-hime, let's think this through!"

_"I'm done thinking!"_

Barechested, he skipped backwards, nimbly evading a hail of gunfire. She wasn't aiming for his vitals. She was trying to prove a point. He was slower now, slower than he had been when she'd first found him on that rainy day. The day the former leader died. The day she'd nearly gone mad with grief. He'd comforted her that day; not as her beloved but as a stranger. When asked his name, he gladly gave it, and she hers. He would say nothing of his past, and neither would she. She remained grateful for that, to this day.

She'd long since suspected he was from another world. After all, why else would he wear no armor but the galling colors of orange and black? She'd harbored those suspicions and kept quiet about them for five years. Five long years together, over which they'd gradually grown closer over time. She'd taught him how to wield a gun, and he, some of his own, supernatural abilities. The uncanny skill to duplicate himself for one. Neat trick, that.

But tricks weren't going to save him. Not anymore.

They'd weathered the havoc of Oda Nobunaga, carefully maintaining the Saica Faction's neutrality despite the pleas of other nations. It had been a wise choice. Nobunaga had been defeated and the world had moved on. Onto Hideyoshi Toyotomi. Just the memory of that man was enough to make her shudder. For all his skill and ability for all this he her beloved, had fought against Toyotomi. He'd lost. _Viciously._

The sound of his spine cracking haunted her dreams. Until she'd finally worked up the nerve to tell him her true feelings. The nightmares had ended that very night; banished into obscurity as they coupled beneath the sheets. Though it galled her to admit it, this was true. She loved him. It was silly. Stupid. Dangerous. And yet she loved him still. A love that exceeded her youthful feelings for Masamune, and her playful camraderie with Motochika.

It was not until he'd nearly died at Hideyoshi's hands that she'd finally proposed to him. What was wrong with that? If a strong woman wanted a strong man then she ought to propose and stake her claim to him. Simple as that. And when a strong woman was angry with a strong man, she should prove to him that she was the stronger.

Something she intended to prove this very instant!

She discarded her pistols for a rifle, knowing the weapon's effectiveness at long range. She watched the playful smirk fade from his face. Watched, as he snatched up a pebble and hurled it at her. It struck her hand with devastating effect, smacking the weapon from her fingers. As she reached for another, he bulleted forward. She stepped back, her hand dipping into another holster and her body angling away from him; from where she thought he ought to reappear.

She didn't expect him to whisper into existence behind her. He was slower now but even so, even with his injuries his speed still exceeded hers. Perhaps it had someting to do with his healing factor. Perhaps it was her body, resisting her commands even now. He spun her in place, locking her wrist together above her head with his fist. She glared at him, staring bloody red daggers as he pinned her against a tree.

"We shouldn't be fighting." He said softly. "Especially today, of all days."

Then he kissed her.

Her eyes shot open in surprise; his kiss was cool but gentle, his two lips caging her upper lip between them. She wanted to kick him, to scream out in anger, but she was completely overwhelmed by him as he released her wrist and cupped her cheek with his hand. She soon found herself returning the kiss, deepening it as she opened her mouth and slid her tongue out and against his. She reached upwards with her arms and wrapped them around his neck as she pulled his body closer to hers. Sick to her stomach, she felt like she was betraying herself and her principles, but she simply couldn't bring herself to pull away from his lips.

"Forgive me?" He asked in a soft whisper. "Saica-hime?"

"Always," She replied breathlessly. _Damn but it was true. _She'd always forgiven him. Not matter the means, no matter the reason. She'd always welcomed him back; always and no matter what, accepting his foolishness and that it was a part of him. She just...didn't want to lose him. Didn't he understand that? Didn't he understand how precious he was to her? Were it not for him, she'd still be in mourning. Were it not for him, she would be cruel and cold and heartless.

She loved him.

It shocked her to realize this, but it didn't change her feelings for him. She loved him. She really did. She always had. She simply hadn't been willing to admit it. He'd stayed a faithful retainer to her before in all matters concerning her, whether it be her health or the pact she made by the red bell. Now, he was so much more than that. He was not it, not a simple savant upon which she relied. He was more. So much more.

She'd always been his hime, his princess, and he, her prince. The nickname infuriated her, but tonight, the night of their meeting all those years ago, she would accept it. Just this once. Then she would make him call her by her proper name and title. But since she was being lenient, just this once, she too, would allow herself to speak softly with him as she so often refused.

_"I love you, Naruto."_ The words felt strange come from her mouth. _Husky._ So she said them again. "I love you." She took him by the hand and led him toward the tent. He did not resist, following her inside without so much as a word. "Be with me tonight." Saica whispered, pulling him toward the bed feeling the heat rising to her cheeks and ignoring it. He never slept with her unless she'd asked. Tonight, she wanted him. She did not want a child in her belly. She simply wanted him. Her fiance. Her soon to be husband and long time lover, the father of her children, with her, tonight.

"I love you, too, you troublesome woman."

Saica arched an eyebrow.

"I wasn't aware I was troubling you."

"You aren't." Naruto paused and shook his head, his fingers lingering on the hem of her shirt and corset. "A friend of mine used to say that and the line gre on me." Now that, shocked Magoichi Saica. It was the first, open admission of his life before her. The first time they'd discussed his past, even in parting. But what did it matter now? The past was just that, the past. It had no place here, in their future together. It had no place tonight, as they descended into the throes of comple and utter bliss.

She doused the lamps and pulled him toward the bed. His body softened at her touch, warm and yielding and _oh_ so inviting. She gasped as his lips found the sweet spof of her neck and suckled it gently, his hands making quick work of her attire and she his. Her lips sought, him, feverishly; jarring against his with the repressed passion of an eternity spent together.

That night, the tent of Magoichi Saica stank of something _other_ than gunpowder.

**A/N: Hahahaha! I'm on a roll! Just minutes after publishing the last party, someone challenged me to create another crossover fic! And that was how Vision came to be! Why is Naruto in the Sengoku era? Why is he wounded? And what on earth is wrong with his eyes? ****This takes place during the vents of the second season of Sengoku Basara, and focuses on, Naruto and Magoichi's life together. Ain't they cute? **

**R&R! =D**


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